The Compass of the Moon and Stars: The Compass of the Moon and Stars, #1

Chapter 1: The Village of Rosslyn

The small village of Rosslyn, nestled in the rolling hills just outside Edinburgh, held a timeless charm, as though it had been forgotten by the modern world. Its cobblestone streets wound lazily between clusters of cottages, their slanted roofs covered with moss and ivy that clung to the stone walls like creeping memories of the past. The air was always fresh, carrying the earthy scent of rain-soaked leaves and wood smoke from the chimneys that puffed faint trails of smoke into the sky. It was the kind of place where life moved at a slower pace, where old traditions lingered, and the past seemed to whisper from every corner.

At the heart of the village stood Rosslyn Chapel, a place of ancient reverence and mystery. Its stone walls, weathered by centuries, were adorned with the most intricate carvings—patterns and symbols that seemed to hold secrets from a time long forgotten. The chapel had always been a source of fascination for Max and Lottie, ever since they were young. But lately, it had taken on a heavier weight in their hearts, its history mingling with their own.

Max and Lottie now lived with their grandfather, Grandpa Ben, after the terrible accident that had taken their parents’ lives. It had been a cold winter night, the roads slick with ice when tragedy struck. That night seemed like a blur now—a night of flashing lights, the sounds of sirens, and the bitter cold that seeped into their bones. But the ache of loss remained, hovering over their new lives like a shadow that refused to lift.

For Max, the change had been jarring. Once, his days had been filled with laughter and light, his mind occupied with the kinds of carefree thoughts that only come with childhood. But now, his world felt quieter, as if something vital had been taken away. The nights were the hardest. He would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, and listen to the silence of the house, his mind filled with echoes of things unsaid. Words he wished he could have spoken to his parents, moments he wished he could have shared with them.

Lottie, though younger, carried the sadness in her own way. She had clung to Grandpa Ben with a fierceness Max had never seen before, as though she were afraid that if she let go, she might lose him too. At times, she seemed like her old self, with her playful smiles and curious nature, but there was a depth to her now, a quietness that hadn’t been there before. She had grown up too quickly, forced to face a world where things didn’t always end happily.

Though they had both adapted to their new life with Grandpa Ben, nothing could fill the void left behind by their parents. The cottage they now called home was small and cozy, filled with the smell of herbs and the musty scent of old books that Grandpa Ben kept scattered throughout the house. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with texts on history, myth, and the natural world, a reflection of Grandpa Ben’s own lifelong curiosity. But even with the warmth of the hearth and the comfort of their grandfather’s stories, there was an emptiness that neither Max nor Lottie could shake.

Yet, despite the sadness that clung to them, Max and Lottie had a way of escaping. They filled their days by dreaming up adventures, letting their imaginations carry them to distant lands where anything was possible. The forest that surrounded Rosslyn Chapel became their haven, a place where they could forget the real world and lose themselves in the wild. The dense trees, tall and ancient, whispered in the wind, and the sound of their laughter would echo through the woods as they ran, pretending to be explorers or knights on a quest, their hearts full of the stories they created.

In the shadow of the trees, they became whoever they wanted to be—brave adventurers, treasure hunters, even heroes saving the world from ancient evils. They would crouch low, pretending to search for hidden relics beneath the roots of the great oaks, or climb the hills to get a better view of their imaginary kingdoms. Every nook and cranny of the forest became part of their story, every stream a boundary to be crossed, every rock a hidden artifact to be uncovered.

The chapel itself, with its ancient stone carvings and air of mystery, was another source of endless inspiration. Max often stood in awe of the intricate work inside, his fingers tracing the lines of the stone figures, dragons and angels, mythical creatures and cryptic symbols. He would marvel at the skill it must have taken to create something so detailed, so precise. The apprentices who worked here must have been incredible, Max would say, his voice full of wonder. Lottie always nodded in agreement, her wide eyes soaking in the history that surrounded them.

They often imagined what life must have been like for those who carved the chapel’s walls centuries ago. In their minds, the apprentices weren’t just builders—they were guardians of ancient secrets, men and women who understood the mysteries of the universe. Do you think they knew magic? Lottie would ask, her voice a mix of curiosity and excitement.

Maybe, Max would reply, grinning. Maybe they were hiding something even bigger than we know.

The stories Grandpa Ben told them about the chapel only fuelled their imaginations further. He spoke of secret societies and hidden meanings, of groups who believed that Rosslyn held the key to ancient knowledge, knowledge that could change the world if it were ever unlocked. Max and Lottie would listen intently, their minds spinning with possibilities. They would explore the grounds of the chapel, pretending to be treasure hunters or spies, searching for clues left behind by ancient civilizations.

Every stone, every shadow seemed to hold a secret, waiting to be discovered. The carvings on the walls became codes to be cracked, the statues became sentinels watching over long-lost relics, and the forest paths led to hidden places where only the bravest could venture. To Max and Lottie, Rosslyn was not just a village—it was a gateway to something bigger, something magical. And though they had lost much, their adventures kept them going, filling the empty spaces in their hearts with stories of danger, heroism, and hope.

Chapter 2: The Order of the Hidden Compass

Edinburgh, with its towering castle perched on the craggy cliffs and its winding cobblestone streets,